


(Hit Me Baby) One More Time

by LessonsFromMoths



Series: One More Time Verse [1]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Cursed, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant!Stiles, Smut, Stiles gets turned into a girl, but not really, derek likes boobs, female - Freeform, my first m/f sex scene, my smut isn't really smut, so does Stiles, this witch knew what she was doing, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 06:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6412030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LessonsFromMoths/pseuds/LessonsFromMoths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a girl....yeah, he doesn't know either. <br/>But maybe this curse is actually a good thing...? </p>
<p>(In which Stiles is actually turned into a girl and has to get pregnant to break the damn thing). </p>
<p>Ok sorry it sounds stupid I promise it's cute</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Hit Me Baby) One More Time

**Author's Note:**

> This has my first attempt at m/f. But Stiles is still MENTALLY a boy so that's why I still use he/him pronouns. Love you all!

Stiles usually isn't at a loss for words, but today is the exception. He's the one with the word for the situation. Always. 

"Fuck," a voice from behind him says. 

But today it seems like his best friend's got his back. 

"Fuck," he agrees, spinning to look right into Scott's eyes. His gaze flicks to Erica, who is staring at him with wide eyes, no words coming to her lips either. Her eyeliner is smudged beneath her huge eyes, but somehow she still managed to look put-together...until now, that is. 

They all stare at each other for another minute before a startled bird in a tree shocks Scott to life. "Holy shit, dude! The witch just did some weird crackling pink energy thing and suddenly..." He trails off and gestures towards Stiles, which really isn't helpful at all. His eyes are glazed as his gaze moves to Stiles's chest. 

Stiles looks down at himself and immediately regrets when he sees....no. He shivers in his oversized shirt and pants that are now too big in the hips, but too small in the butt. He crosses his arms over his chest self-consciously and glares at Scott. "Yeah, I think we can all see that, thank you very much." 

Erica takes the moment to burst out into loud guffaws, not even bothering to cover her amusement. "Stiles, oh my god!" She takes a moment, then puts her hand on his shoulder. "I promise it's not that bad." 

Immediately Stiles moans "Oh my god it's so bad," and pulls away. 

Erica snickers. "Okay yes, it's really bad." Then she takes a moment to eye him with consideration. "Though, you're actually a really pretty girl. Your jugs are impressive." 

"No!" Scott yells, eyes ripping from Stiles's boobs and hands slapping over his ears. "We are pretending that that comment was _not_ just said!" 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It is just Stiles's luck that he accidentally stumbles in the way of a mischievous witch looking for shits and giggles, gets hit by pink powder energy, and is suddenly transformed into a girl. 

_Just_ his luck. 

When it was suggested that they take him to his dad, Stiles immediately shoots the idea down. He doesn't even know what he looks like yet, and his dad does not need to see any more than he needs to. The next suggestion was Scott's mom, but Stiles sees no point in that. The last one—the helpful idea that Stiles proposed—was to go to Deaton. That definitely won. 

So that's how Stiles finds himself sitting on the examination table in the veterinary clinic, being stared at like some zoo animal on display. By the entire pack. 

"Can you guys stop staring at me? It's weird." Stiles squirms uncomfortably on the cool metal table. 

"Is it reversible?" Derek asks gruffly, ignoring him as per usual. 

Deaton shines a bright light into his eye without warning and he flails away. "I'm not quite sure. Some spells are easily reversed, others take quite a while to figure out. And some," he shrugs, "just wear off over time." 

"Over time?" Stiles gapes, pressing his now tiny hands hard against the cool metal. "How long is _over time?"_

Deaton looks over apologetically. "There's really no way to know for sure. What were you hit with?"

"Powder." Stiles says at the exact same time Scott says "Lightning." 

They look at each other, then look at Erica. She balks and then rolls her eyes. "It started out like a pink lightning but when it hit Stiles it burst into powder." 

"Interesting," Deaton says, mulling it over. "Pink, you said? Give me a moment while I go look at a spell book." He leaves the pack alone, left to wait. Derek stands scowling in the corner, arms crossed, while Isaac and Boyd still look in awe at the female Stiles sitting in front of them.

"Take a picture." Stiles snaps at them, and immediately regrets it when Isaac pulls out his phone as if he was waiting for permission all this time. He clicks a quick photo of angry Stiles before quickly putting the cell away. Stiles sighs dramatically and is pleasantly surprised when he actually has hair to flip in Isaac's face. 

"Hey, watch where you whip that! You could take out an eye!" Isaac complains. 

"Huh. Being a girl gives you extra ammo against males." Stiles waggles his eyebrows and touches his new hair, which is actually pretty soft. 

The door bangs and everyone's heads whip to see Allison and Lydia bursting into the veterinary clinic. "I came and brought Lydia right when I got your text, Scott." Allison says, and then freezes when she sees Stiles. "Oh my god. You're actually pretty." She says, looking shocked. 

"Why does it seem like everyone thinks I'd be an ugly girl?" Stiles throws his hands up in the air. 

"Well of course he'd be a pretty girl! Haven't you ever seen Stiles's cheekbones? And lips? Eyelashes? Come on, even I could expect what he'd look like as a girl." Lydia pushes forward and rolls her eyes. She gives him a once-over, then cocks her hip. "Your boobs are bigger than I thought they'd be, though." 

Stiles rolls his eyes in a Lydia impression. "Gee, thanks," he says sarcastically. "Hey Stiles, I know you don't have a penis anymore, but your boobs are bigger than expected, so score!" He grabs the two sacs and jiggles them towards her as he glares. 

Deaton picks that moment to walk in, a sort of shocked expression taking its place on his face. Immediately the pack goes silent, grim as they wait for his prognosis. "I'm not quite sure how to say this, so I apologize if it seems blunt," he says, and looks at Stiles. "It seems as though you were hit with a very powerful and irreversible spell. The spell you were hit with is called a fertility spell." 

"Fertility?" Stiles asks, pale at the thought of being a girl forever. Scott seems to hear the change in his heartbeat and rushes to his side before he can faint on the floor. 

"Yes. It seems that the witch that hit you intended to curse you until you become...well, pregnant. Since your normal form cannot conceive, the spell changed your body into a female's." 

"And you said it's irreversible?" Derek asks, face void of emotion but voice choked. 

"Yes, but it can be broken." 

"How?" Stiles asks before Deaton can continue. The rest of the pack gives him a look to tell him to shut up and Deaton goes on. 

"Unfortunately, this part gets...unconventional." Deaton looks at Stiles apologetically but seriously. "In order for the spell to be broken, you have to go through with what it was put there to do. Once its function is fulfilled, the curse will go away." 

"Please don't tell me—"

"That means you will have to become impregnated and conceive a child in order for the spell to break." 

Stiles isn't even ashamed to admit that the world goes dark and the last thing he remembers is falling into Scott's outstretched arms. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The first order of business is telling his dad, because if he's gotta be female until he's had a kid he'll be like this for a while. Scott takes Stiles home to make sure he gets there alright. His dad isn't there and shouldn't be for another few hours. It takes some time, but eventually Stiles convinced Scott that he'll be fine and that he can tell his father on his own. 

Scott looks hesitant, and even acts more hesitant now that Stiles is a girl, but nods and leaves after Stiles pretty much pushes him out the door. Stiles rifles through the fridge, finds some frozen lasagna to make, and throws it in the oven. 

While dinner's cooking, he has time to actually look at his new self, and ventures up the stairs and into his bathroom. Just looking at his own face in the mirror makes him gasp. His lips are fuller, pinker, and his hair is gorgeously smooth and straight. It falls about mid-chest. His eyes are the same, eyelashes a little longer, and his eyebrows are thin and quirky. His features are softer, chin less defined and jaw bone sharper, along with higher cheekbones and a softer nose. He's pretty much a carbon copy of his mother, Claudia. 

God, this might just kill his dad. 

He hesitantly lifts his shirt over his head, staring at his newly developed breasts with wonder. He's survived his sophomore year of college and he's touched naked girls before, but it's different when they're _yours._ He squishes them a few times for good measure, marveling at how his nipples grow hard and taut, then moves to his pants. He unclasps the belt Scott lent him and lets the pants drop. Without the support of his jeans, his boxers fall as well to reveal his lack of penis. 

And man it's fucking weird. 

Where it usually hangs is now empty space, dark curls of hair replacing it. He wonders what it's going to be like not having to jack off anymore. How often did girls finger themselves? And how did they know when they were turned on? Did they even _need_ to get turned on? So many questions, and he sure as hell won't go willingly to Lydia or Allison. And no Erica. At all. 

He lets his hand travel nervously down between his legs, first shocker at how soft his thighs are, then at how soft his genitalia is. His vagina is a little wet when he forces the lids open, touching each flap gently with his cold, slender fingers. He shivers. He's a little nervous at finding the hole, and decides to leave that for later. 

He turns around and finds that his ass is actually pretty nice, which he'll take as a win. It's so weird to see himself—as a girl—when he's still a boy in every way but physically. Stiles decides to shower, because even though his body changed, he was still out in the woods a few hours ago and mud is smudged all over his arms and legs and face. 

He spends so much time touching his new body that he doesn't even realize it's been an hour until he hears his dad yell up at him. "Stiles? You up there?" 

"Yeah!" He answers back, scrubbing himself with a washcloth. 

"Smells good, I'm going to take it out!" 

"Okay!" There's a good chance his father will eat half of the lasagna before he gets downstairs, so Stiles finishes showering with a new motivation in mind. He doesn't have a bra or anything and the only real knowledge he has about accommodating female anatomy is from movies, so he takes an ace bandage from under his sink and wraps it around his boobs. The last thing he wants is a replay of the woods earlier and the way his breasts reacted to the cold. He throws on a shirt, rolls up the elastic part of a pair of sweatpants so they don't fall off of his hips, and leaves his hair in a sopping mass atop his head and hanging limply around his shoulders (he needs to find out how girls deal with wet hair pronto). 

He takes a deep breath, decides that he needs to buy hair ties stat, and makes his way downstairs. "Dad?" He says, and winces at how high his voice is now. He stands outside of the kitchen, just shy of where his dad can see. "I have to tell you about something that happened today." He steps out from behind the wall to see his dad's worried face. Immediately though, it goes pale; the shocked expression is almost worrisome. "Dad? I promise I'm still Stiles, I'm just a bit more...feminine." 

His dad sort of chokes on air before he can finally talk. "What the hell happened, Stiles?" 

"How about we start eating while I tell you, huh Dad?" Stiles coaxes, and once they're sitting down with heaping plates in front of them, he tells about the encounter with the witch and the visit to Deaton and the whole fertility thing. "So I uh have to get impregnated and have a baby for me to get turned back to a boy." Stiles says sheepishly, pushing his noodles around his plate. He glances up to see his dad studying him carefully. 

"You look just like her, you know. You've always looked exactly like your mom, but now you're pretty much her copy." His dad says in an old melancholy way, taking a sip of beer. 

"I'm sorry, Dad," Stiles says, noticing his father's shining eyes. 

"Oh son, don't be sorry. This isn't your fault. I'm just sorry your mother isn't here to help you through this. You'll have to settle for your old man." 

"You're all I've ever needed, Dad." Stiles gives him a small smile and tries to ignore the small tears slipping down his dad's face. 

They eat in silence for about ten minutes before his dad clears his throat. Stiles looks up to see a ridiculous smirk on his face, which is really never a good sign. "So," the Sheriff clears his throat, wiping his lips on a napkin, "have you decided who you want to have a baby with?" 

"Dad!" Stiles gawks, almost choking on a forkful of lasagna. 

"Stiles, this is something you'll have to seriously consider if you want to return to your normal state. You can choose the father, choose the method of impregnation, and take a semester off of school. Your fall break just began for you, so you'll have a summer baby and won't have to miss too much school." 

"Wait wait wait. Father? A semester? And oh my god please never say the word impregnation again, I don't think I can survive it." Stiles flips his hair out of his face when it falls into the lasagna on his plate again. At this rate, he'll need another shower. 

"Well Stiles, you'll have to choose whether you want a random donor or someone you know. And then you have to decide whether you want it surgically done or if you want to take a more traditional path. And yes, I think a semester would suffice." 

"No Dad!" Stiles says immediately. "A semester will not suffice! What do you think, I'm gonna just have the baby and then _boom!,_ done? I thought you've done this before!" Stiles flails his arms—which aren't as long and dangerous now—about him as he explains. "If I'm going through all the trouble carrying the baby, I'm very well going to keep the damn thing! That means that one semester is not nearly enough time. I'm probably going to have to finish school online. That way I can keep up and stay home with the kid. Also, I don't really want to decide on fathers until I can talk with the pack about it." 

Stiles says all of this without having thought about it first, but as he explains it he actually agrees with himself. He definitely doesn't want this baby going to anyone else and the matter of the father would be a pack decision, not just his own. It makes him feel a gazillion times better knowing that he's not going into this alone. He'll have his pack and his father behind him the whole way. 

His father sighs, and Stiles knows that he's won. "Alright, Stiles. I have confidence that you know what's best for you, but make sure that you come to me if you ever need anything, okay? I'm always here for you, and I'll always stand by your side." 

"Alright, Dad." 

"But I know that the Hale boy would probably give you a really healthy baby," his dad suggests nonchalantly as he takes a huge bite of noodles and ricotta cheese. 

"Dad!" Stiles almost knocks over his glass of water as he glares at his too-gleeful father. Ever since he had walked in on Stiles making out with his pillow and sleep-talking about Derek, he'd been dropping not-so-subtle hints about the Hale wolf. It always makes for an awkward rest of the conversation, something Stiles is definitely not a fan of (even if it's always been one of his many talents). "That's not..." He swallows. "That's not something that's entirely my decision." 

"It should be most of your decision who sires your kid and who you have sex wi—!" His dad says indignantly. 

"Aaaaand we're done with this conversation." Stiles interrupts loudly, standing up swiftly and taking his plate to the sink. "Now finish up so I can wash the dishes. We're not talking about this any more tonight." 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Stiles wakes up to a knocking at his door. "Stiles? Allison and Lydia are here. They said they want to take you clothes shopping?" His father says tentatively from behind the closed door, and all Stiles can think is how awful this is probably going to turn out. 

He's right. 

Lydia and Allison are whirlwinds. Very fashionable, amazingly dressed, bargain-shopping whirlwinds, but deadly tornados of destruction nonetheless. They take him to shop after shop, shoving clothes into his arms and forcing him to try them on. Lydia is constantly frowning at him and forcing him to spin and shoving him back into dressing rooms while Allison just quietly hands him more tops and pants that fit and silently laughs at him the whole time. Stiles is okay with all the clothes and bras and underwear because God knows he needs them, but he has a line. 

And he draws it at dresses. 

"But Stiles!" Allison whines. "You'd look amazing in a dress! Your boobs and butt are perfect, not to mention your legs!" 

"Even as a boy you had great collarbones, Stiles." Lydia points out. Stiles just groans. 

"No. I have dignity, and I will not wear a dress just because you think I'd be cute in it!" Stiles complains, glaring at them. 

Lydia ends up buying him three. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After shopping and changing, they all drive to the Hale house together. It was remodeled way back during the summer after their senior year. They had all chipped in and spent countless nights working until dusk and then laying under the stars and getting back to work after IHop in the mornings. It was actually pretty nice, and much better than the train station Derek had insisted upon all those years ago. 

They walk into the house, Stiles trying not to let his new flats slip off his feet. The shorts he's wearing are really short (Lydia helped him shave his legs, which was both an awkward and painful yet oddly sensual experience) but it's summer and his new girl legs are actually sort of hot, so he's not complaining. Much. 

"Lydia, they still sting from the lotion!" He whines, letting Allison shut the door behind him. 

"Oh stop being such a baby. Maybe you'll actually realize how hard it is to be a girl in the twenty-first century." Her eyes are rolling again, which is something she's incredibly good at. But Stiles isn't half bad himself. 

"Stop being such a baby? I'm a fucking girl! I have no penis, two useless sacs of fat on my chest, and a huge ass that I don't know how to navigate!" He waves his arms around again, and then stops when he realizes that the entire house just heard what he said. They're all seated in the living room staring at him. Erica looks like she's trying not to laugh, Boyd and Isaac have pitying looks on their faces, and Derek just pinches the bridge of his nose. Scott, though, looks like he's trying not to puke. "Sorry," Stiles says sheepishly, then takes a seat on the love seat with Lydia. 

"So um," Derek starts, "you obviously all know why we're gathered here for this meeting. We have to talk about Stiles and our next course of action. Stiles, I believe you know the most about the situation?" 

Stiles nods, clapping his hands together. "As much fun as playing with my boobs is, I don't want to be a girl forever. Which means I _will_ have to get pregnant at some point. I've talked about it with my dad, and I've come to a decision on a few things. First, I will be keeping the baby. I'll finish my schooling online so I can stay home with the kid. Second, I want to have a kid the traditional way, which means I won't be taking sperm from a donor. So since I've decided these things, we just have to talk about one: who the father of the baby will be." He looks around at their faces and lets them digest the information. 

"Are you saying it needs to be one of us?" Isaac says slowly, unsure. 

"No, but I am saying that if it isn't you'll need to help me find a perfect candidate. I refuse to have a baby with someone I can't stand and someone who won't support me throughout the pregnancy." 

"It doesn't just come down to who would make a good father," Derek rumbles. "This person will become part of the pack since he'll be siring your baby. The baby will not only be yours, but will be the pack baby." 

"What does _that_ mean?" Erica asks, scrunching her nose a bit. 

Derek sighs, as if all of those in his presence are just too stupid to be around. "When a baby is born into a pack, it forms a strong bond to the parents. Both biological mom and dad will be able to sense when it's distressed or in danger. And not only does it bond with the parents, but also with all other members of the pack. The baby becomes everybody's responsibility because one day it must be ready to provide for the pack as we do. Everyone forms a bond to the baby. That's why it's important that we choose the correct person to impregnate Stiles." 

"Well if the baby is so important to the pack, why don't you just do it?" Isaac asks. 

"What?" Derek looks like someone just shot him with a BB gun. 

"It makes sense," Lydia pipes up, looking at him critically. "You're saying that the baby needs to be bred to help take care of the pack one day, so who better to sire it than the alpha?" 

Now Derek looks like someone shot him with a real bullet, one laced with wolfsbane. Stiles notes this and jumps in. "Now, let's not be hasty. We have to talk about this—"

"We are talking, Stiles," Erica says with an evil smirk, "and I think we all agree that Derek is the best choice when it comes to fathers. The baby might even be werewolf." Derek looks like he's choking. 

Stiles looks uncertainly at each face of his pack. "Um, I guess I'm okay with it. Maybe. We'd have to talk to Deaton and only if it's okay with Derek." He pauses. "I think an alpha's baby would be very beneficial for the pack." 

Derek finally finds words. "Stiles, don't do this just because you think it'll be good for the pack. Make sure you want a baby that'll be...mine." 

Stiles shrugs his delicate shoulders. "If we're stuck in this situation, might as well benefit from it."

Derek sighs, deflating. "I guess we go to Deaton then and ask how safe it would be for you." 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Turns out, werewolves and humans have been breeding for as long as there's been werewolves and humans on this earth, which is kind of a huge relief. "There aren't very many human/werewolf packs, but the ones that do exist report healthy babies, usually werewolf. I believe that the werewolf gene is dominant, but Derek's father was human. Therefore there's a 50% chance your baby will be human, 50% that it will be werewolf." Deaton explains. 

Stiles nods, standing so close to Derek that he can feel his body heat but awkwardly not touching him at all, which is kind of nerve-wracking. "Will it be a normal pregnancy?" Stiles finds himself asking. 

"Well, that's when the reports get confusing. Some say the gestation period is normal, but other reports say that it's only 62–75 days, which is the gestation period of a wolf." Deaton shrugs. "The female member of the bond can be human or werewolf, but the gestation period is usually random. There are even a few reports saying that the female had a wolf's gestation period but a perfectly healthy human baby." 

"How is that even possible?" Derek asks. 

"We've concluded that the genes from the werewolf parent protect the child in the womb and accelerate the growing process." Deaton says. "No matter what, you should be gifted with a healthy pregnancy and child. I should warn you, however," he says, looking at the two, "there have been recorded instances of a werewolf pregnancy resulting in a litter." 

"A...litter?" Stiles asks, not quite sure he heard right. 

"Yes. Anywhere from two to seven puppies would be considered a litter. It's actually a fairly common occurrence." 

"That didn't happen to us," Derek says slowly. Stiles realizes that he's referring to his old _us,_ as in his dead family _us_.

Deaton smiles a little, shaking his head. "That's where you're wrong, Derek. Your mother's siblings were part of a litter of three. Unfortunately they lost two in a hunting accident when they were young, but the runt survived." 

"Peter," Derek breathes. 

"Correct. Also, are you forgetting your little cousins?" 

Derek shakes his head, lips pursed. "They were just human twins." 

"But born from werewolf lineage. They were still considered a litter." 

Stiles takes a deep breath in and sighs noisily. "Well shit. Sounds great. Uh...I think that's it, Deaton. I believe we have a lot to think about." 

"Thanks," Derek grunts, then leads Stiles from the clinic and to his car. They stand outside of the jeep and the Camaro, Stiles rocking awkwardly on his feet and Derek glaring at the ground. 

"So uh, when should we schedule this thing?" Stiles asks. "I'm free every day, but can we not do Friday since it's the 13th and I'm not like really superstitious but I don't want to become pregnant on Friday the 13th." Stiles gasps. "Oh my gosh, what if it doesn't work the first time? How will we know? Doesn't a girl know she's pregnant like two weeks after she actually is? Or is it months? Oh my god Derek, I have no clue—" 

"Stiles." Derek grunts, grabbing the girl by his shoulders. "Werewolves are incredibly fertile. You should be just fine."

Stiles visibly deflates with relief. "Okay, okay good." 

"Stiles, are you sure you want to do this?" Derek asks. "You could be pregnant with up to _six babies."_ He says the number as if it's painful. 

"I know what I'm doing, Derek. Trust me for once and stop treating me like the scared sixteen-year-old you first met!" The two of them stand a foot apart, breathing loudly in parking lot while staring each other down. 

"Saturday. 8pm, my place." Derek says unceremoniously, and then stalks to his car and slams the door shut, not even waiting for Stiles to get into his jeep before driving away. 

"Fine," Stiles snips, staring after the broody werewolf and wondering what set him off. "I'm not just a girl. I won't get raped at all alone here in this parking lot," he gripes. God, if this is how Derek is on a daily basis, Stiles really doesn't want to know what a moody, ADHD werewolf kid will be like going through puberty.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

All Saturday Stiles is nervous as hell. Sure, he's had sex with both the opposite and same gender, but he's never been on the receiving end of heterosexual sex before. He's enjoying his mini panic attack around lunchtime while sitting fully-clothed in his bathtub when his father taps on the door. "Lydia's here." 

"Tell her to go away." Stiles mumbles, knowing his father has no control over what Lydia does. Sure enough, in about thirty seconds, the sound of the lock being picked is replaced by Lydia bursting in, hair flipping over her shoulder. 

She roughly rips the shower curtain aside to get a clear view of him. "Get up, Stiles, we're going shopping." 

He lifts his head two inches from the bottom of the tub. "We just went shopping yesterday," he whines. 

Lydia looks exasperated. "Yes, but we didn't shop for anything sexy. You need to look absolutely delicious for Derek tonight." She says pointedly. "I know you've had a crush on him for a while. Don't you want to dress to impress?" 

"What's the point? We're just going to undress anyways." 

"The point is to make you look so irresistible he can't wait to rip your clothes off of you with those supernatural claws of his." 

Stiles pushes out a moan and lets his head smack down on the tub again. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Can you get any more basic?" Stiles asks as Lydia, Allison, and Erica lead him into Victoria's Secret. 

"It's sexy, comfortable, and lacy. Why would you go anywhere else?" Erica asks, giggling maniacally. 

"Walmart is cheaper," Stiles grumbles. 

"But there the lingerie is limited." Lydia points out. He trails them like a puppy, coming up with quick responses: shaking his head no when Lydia holds up a thong, sticking his tongue out at the neon pink push-up that Erica thinks is actually a _good idea,_ and holding back laughter when Allison holds up a bra size that must be used for relatives of elephants. 

Eventually he allows them to buy him a lacy black bra and matching boy short underwear. Then they stop at Charlotte Russe, where Allison says she recently saw the most _darling_ dress that would look _so fab_ on Stiles. Stiles doesn't really want to spend a lot of time trying on hundreds of styles of the same damn dress, but decides that he also doesn't want to spend the next five hours chewing his nails in anxious anticipation for tonight. 

He plays Barbie, letting the girls fit him in various colors and sizes of dresses. It takes two hours for them to decide on a dress, and Stiles decides that there must be some extremely complicated math problem that goes along with picking the perfect dress because even though it took for-freaking-ever, the dress looks absolutely stunning. 

It's a silky material, one that flows down to his knees and dips low in the back. His shoulders and neck are bared for the world, but his breasts are tucked tight. The color is a complicated red, almost orange, and kind of reminds him of the festive roses he sees at Meijer. Or maybe autumn leaves. It's a simple but absolutely gorgeous find, and he has no trouble letting Lydia whip out her credit card to let him take it home. 

When they get back to his house, the girls find it an absolute horror that there's only two hours remaining before he has to go to Derek's. They're hurrying about, bringing bags from their cars into his bathroom and forcing him to sit in his spinning computer chair. He's not really sure what's happening until Erica begins painting his nails while Allison tugs at his hair. They're preparing him like he's a human sacrifice. 

He wants to scream when he sees Lydia rushing a makeup brush at his eye, but finds that as long as he keeps his eyes closed and doesn't squint, she's gentle and fast with each stroke. Allison, on the other hand, is a whole different story. She yanks his brown locks, pinning them in odd spots and fastening clips in like crazy. He wonders why Lydia lets Allison do such a god-awful job, and really hopes that by the time he opens his eyes to look at himself he doesn't pass out. 

"Stop squirming so much, I'm going to accidentally burn you," Allison says, frustrated. Stiles holds in a yelp and allows her the luxury of his stillness. When Erica finishes his nails, she instructs him not to touch anything and leaves the room to grab his dress. He has no idea how long he stays sitting in his chair, totally still while Lydia and Allison finish, but the clock reads 7:30 by the time he gets to open his eyes. 

When he looks in the mirror, he's kind of too shocked to gasp. There's actual, honest-to-God makeup on his face, and it makes him look... _hot._ Allison has also managed to not screw up his hair. It's lightly curled underneath, the top layers resting loftily on his head. It's really pretty the way his locks wave and shine, and he's actually fairly—okay, _insanely_ — impressed. Erica hands him his clothes (he's literally going into this with three pieces of clothing— _three_ ), and he dresses under the uncomfortable scrutiny of the girls. 

"Here," Lydia says, clasping a black and gold necklace around his neck. "Finishing touch." 

"You can't forget shoes!" Erica drawls, holding out a pair of stiletto heels. 

Stiles takes one look before absolutely spazzing out. "There is no way in _hell_ that I am wearing those. I will trip and fall and die. Do you not know me? No, I will be wearing my ballet flats, thank you very much." He huffs and grabs the black flats from beside his bathroom door. 

"Okay, okay. Touchy." Erica rolls her huge eyes. 

Stiles swallows some bile that he thinks he feels in the back of his throat and prays that he doesn't throw up from nerves at any point tonight. "Stiles, quit looking like you're going to your own funeral. It's just sex." Lydia shrugs. 

"Right. Just sex. Done this plenty of times before, _just never as a girl and never with the intent of getting pregnant!"_ He glares, but he feels that the bite in his words is lost from his shaking hands. 

"Stiles, relax." Allison says as she leads him downstairs. The other girls follow them to the living room. Allison takes ahold of his shoulders and looks him dead in the eye. "You look gorgeous. I promise that Derek wouldn't be doing this if he didn't want to. Besides, girls do this all the time. I promise that it won't be bad. You'll always have us by your side." She presses her lips to his cheek. And Stiles just looks at her in awe. 

"I swear to god if Scott doesn't marry you I'll kill him." Stiles promises, and Allison just laughs good-naturedly. 

"You heading out?" He hears his dad say, and turns around to see him standing in the hallway to the front door. 

"Yeah, I promised Derek I'd be there around 8." 

"Well," his father says, and then pulls him in for a hug. 

"Dad, it's okay. It's not like this is my virginity or anything. I'm just getting pregnant." 

His dad pulls back and looks at him seriously. "If he does anything you're uncomfortable with, you call me immediately and we'll find someone else, okay? Derek is not your last option." 

Stiles doesn't tell his dad that he doesn't want any other option. "Okay dad, I promise." 

"Good." His father pulls him in again. "Be safe, I love you." 

"Gee Dad, you act like I'm going to war. I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Okay," the Sheriff sounds kind of choked up which is scary because Stiles can count on one hand how many times he's seen his father cry. They pull away and he's happy to report that his dad isn't crying. 

"Well, it's time for me to do, uh, the thing," Stiles gestures towards the door. 

"Good luck!" Allison says. 

"Show him what you're made of!" 

"Just do it right, okay?" 

Stiles runs out the door, resisting the urge to pick at a major wedgie the thong he has on—Lydia's idea—is causing. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The ride to Derek's is full of mini panic attacks and life speculation. Stiles has been reading up on wolf genitalia ever since Derek grunted out a time, but even though his bases are pretty much covered he still doesn't know what's real and what's not. 

The biggest thing: Does Derek have a knot?

Stiles wouldn't be afraid of getting knotted, per se, but he would like to know if he's going to be connected to Derek for 30-50 seconds while they wait for the insemination process to work. God, this is so complicated. 

He pulls up to the redone Hale house, hesitant and heart beating fast. When his eyes travel to the passenger side, he realizes that someone—probably Erica—threw the heels on the floor of his car. After some hesitation and evaluating, Stiles decides to ditch the ballet flats and pull on the high heels. God, he hopes he doesn't fall. 

He scuffs his heels on the tiny pebbles that line the pathway to the front door, trying not to trip. He has to admit that it's easier with his tiny feet and legs. He wipes his palms on the sides of the red dress before walking up to the door and knocking. Derek opens the door in the middle of his second knock, which is really rude because you've either got to open the door before the first knock or wait until the knocking is over. Stiles has made it clear many times that he does not like his knocking to be interrupted just because everyone can hear a million times better than him (and okay technically it's only four times better than him, but he's never going to admit that). 

Stiles is about to reprimand Derek, but the harsh words die on his lips when he sees the tightness of the shirt Derek is currently wearing paired with a freshly shaved chin and tight-ish grey pants. Stiles is not gonna lie—the whole getup is really turning him on. He quickly decides that being horny as a girl is weird, but not unpleasant. He's missing the expected boner, but sweat pours off of him and he has this weird ticklish feeling inside his vagina. Like what the hell?

He also has this weird urge to rub his hands roughly on his own boobs, which he represses.

"Um. Hi, Derek," Stiles says, cocking a hip awkwardly. 

"Hi Stiles," Derek murmurs, looking him up and down appreciatively. "Here." He shoves a single white rose at Stiles, and he takes it with a soft smile. 

"This is lovely, thank you." 

"Oh! Please, come in." He holds the door open for Stiles, and he knows Derek is watching his ass as he walks through. 

"Like what you see?" Stiles teases, turning around, but to his surprise Derek just swallows hard and nods, eyes still trailing his body. It seems like it should be derogatory, but it's actually really flattering. Stiles is really going to have to remember this when he's a male again. Stiles glances around awkwardly, hands clasped in front of him and over the rose. "You cleaned," he realizes, taking in the pristine house. 

Derek looks around as well. "I thought it would be appropriate." He swallows. "For the situation." 

"Yup," Stiles nods. 

"Should we...?" Derek gestures to the ceiling.

"Oh, uh yeah," Stiles says, nodding again. 

Derek steps ahead of Stiles and surprises him by holding out one large hand. Stiles doesn't hesitate as he takes it, sweaty hand on sweaty hand, both of them nervous as hell. Stiles can feel his own tiny hand shaking in Derek's, and Derek squeezes once before intertwining their fingers and leading him up the stairs. Their footsteps echo in the big empty house. 

Derek leads him into his bedroom: a room no one in the pack has ever seen before. It looks like Derek: light grey walls, cream bedsheets and comforter, a wooden chair, one lamp on the bedside table. Derek turns around, and there's a look on his face that Stiles has never seen before. His eyes are shining in the dim light and there's a look of...attachment...euphoria... _something_ on his face. His lips are parted in a gasp and Stiles wants to kiss him so badly. 

Stiles kind of hates himself. He's been harboring this crush on Derek for _years,_ and now that he finally has the opportunity to make a move, he's freezing up. So Stiles tries to turn off his brain, just do instead of think. He kicks off his heels and tosses the rose to the side, closing the space between him and Derek very quickly. Derek responds well, scooping Stiles up into his arms and it's like they're both letting their hormones take over when they shove their lips together. 

It's not a great kiss, not even close. It's desperate and wet and both of their lips are chapped and Stiles can feel the sweat of his upper lip smearing onto Derek's—but somehow it makes the kiss all the more special. Their teeth knock uncomfortably when Derek carries Stiles to the bed, but Stiles just lets Derek lay him down gently and nips at his lips. 

Derek's hands are soft as he roughly flips their positions, and he holds Stiles over him as they kiss again. His hands are running over all of Stiles's curves, feverishly searching for a zipper. "It's a...slip-on," Stiles breathes, brushing his lips over Derek's stubble. 

"Damn it," Derek grumbles as he tries to wiggle Stiles out of it. Eventually he grows frustrated, and with an awfully loud ripping sound the dress is lying in tatters on the floor. 

"Good thing I didn't pay for that," Stiles glances mournfully at the rags that were once his dress, but Derek distracts him by pressing wet kisses into his collarbone. The feel of Derek's facial hair on Stiles's now overly-sensitive skin is almost more than he can bear, and he expects to feel his cock twitching before he remembers that he doesn't have one. Instead he feels a burst of moisture in his lacy black thong, and he knows Derek knows by the way he sniffs the air. 

Derek's eyes zero in on Stiles's black lacy bra as he flips Stiles onto his back again. It has a tiny pink bow in the middle that Lydia says adds "personality" but Stiles still thinks is kind of stupid. Derek unclasps the garment with two fingers and slowly drags it off of Stiles. He lowers his mouth to one round breast and swirls his tongue on the nipple. Stiles shudders, the sensation different from anything he's ever felt before. Derek's teeth scrape against the sensitive parts of his breast and Stiles gasps, running one hand down Derek's bare back. When Derek got shirtless he has no clue, but he's definitely not going to complain. 

Derek retracts his mouth and presses kisses down Stiles's body. As he does this he takes the other breast in his hand and rubs the nipple slow but hard. Stiles is way past turned on right now, and he lets one of his hands wander to his own breast, where he begins to massage deeply into it. Rubbing himself seems to help, and Derek is doing such a good job at pleasure it's almost easy to forget that this entire thing is merely the plan to impregnate Stiles. 

Derek's tongue finds his clitoris, and Stiles moans. The feel of the rough stubble between his thighs shouldn't feel so good, but the friction is oddly sensual. Stiles cards the fingers of one hand through Derek's hair and touches his own breast with the other, kneading it in slow, smooth circles. "Please Derek," he says softly, kneading harder, "need to feel you, babe. Haven't...pushed into myself yet. Pure for...you," Stiles pants as Derek eats him out, and Derek's head pops up in surprise. 

"You're untouched?" He asks, a glint in his eye. Stiles nods feverishly, and Derek gently cups Stiles's face with his damp hands. "You sure you're ready, baby?" 

Stiles bites his lips at the tenderness in Derek's voice, trembling. He nods like crazy, eyes needy. "Please Derek. Impregnate me please," he whispers. "Fill me up with all of you." 

Those words seem to make Derek crazy, and he presses rough wet kisses to all of Stiles's naked body. "Gonna love on you," Derek grunts, positioning himself. "Gonna worship you like the goddess you are. Gonna be gentle, baby," Derek nuzzles Stiles's collarbone and then pushes a finger in his vagina. Stiles lets out a gasp. "It hurt, Stiles?" Derek asks, concerned, and Stiles shakes his head, stops, and then nods. 

"'S good. Please, another finger," Stiles pleads, body aching. Derek pushes another in, readying the vagina. Once both of them are in position, Stiles almost screams when Derek's penis is thrust into him. It's beautiful and painful and... _right._

Stiles has to admit that it's a lot different than getting fucked in the ass. Oral sex has always been the most sensual for him. But now, with this new internal organ, the sex feels absolutely amazing and...

"Derek!" 

...orgasmic. 

Derek seems to absorb Stiles's frantic cries and use them as energy as he goes deeper, harder. Stiles wants to be embarrassed about coming so early, but Derek is thrusting into him like fucking crazy, leaving him no time to think. Derek's fingers knead their way through his long hair, tugging gently while his lips move down to his stomach. Derek inhales deeply as he moves his head up and down Stiles's body. "Smell so good. Smell like lust, lust for me," Derek groans, letting his tongue flick out every now and then to trace wet lines onto skin.

"So beautiful," Stiles pants up at him. 

"No, you are," Derek moans back, and with an even louder moan he comes. The sounds have Stiles's skin tingling all over, and they both seem to collapse into each other. Derek pulls out and rolls over next to Stiles, chest moving up and down next to Stiles's heaving one. Stiles isn't really sure what's going to happen next, and is surprised when Derek reaches to grab his hand. 

They intertwine their fingers and Derek rolls to look at him. "You're so beautiful. In any form," Derek says softly, leaning in and scooping a kiss from his lips. 

"I-I've always had a crush on you. Ever since we began saving each other's lives over and over." Stiles admits. Derek's eyes light up and he presses his lips against Stiles's again. 

"Me too," Derek says. "You always smell so good, always talk so sarcastic with that perfect mouth of yours." Derek kisses him again, as if to prove its perfection. 

"I'm glad it's mutual," Stiles says with heavy eyelids, and they slide closed, although his grip on Derek doesn't loosen. 

"I love you," Derek whispers softly to the sleeping boy in a girl's body that lays before him. Then he drifts off into a restful sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

From then on, things start to get...domestic. Stiles is surprised to find that on nights when he doesn't go to Derek's, Derek climbs in through his window just to sleep next to him. Derek eats dinner with him and his father whenever they don't have pack dinners, and Derek takes Stiles out for small dates once in a while. It's pure domestic bliss, something Stiles had always wanted but never dared hope for himself—especially himself and Derek.

Eventually, Derek and Stiles just move in with each other because, frankly, it's just too hard to stay apart. Deaton claims that it's the weird bond they have now over the fetuses. All Stiles knows is that Derek is insanely clingy. They'll lay on the couch together and Derek will be nosing his way into Stiles's neck and giving great big snuffles. They'll be having dinner and Derek will just have to be holding his hands from across the table and linking their ankles together under it. They'll enter a room together and Derek has to sweep Stiles into his arms and hold him, even if he's just trying to have a normal conversation with his dad. It's weird, but pretty great.

They have sex a few more times just for the hell of it, but Stiles is almost positive that he's pregnant. They confirm it first with five positive pregnancy tests, and then again when he goes to the doctor a few days later for blood work.

"Oh my god, is that...? I can't look! Derek, hold my hand." Stiles gasps, reaching to find Derek's hand. Derek grasps it, chuckling. 

"How does it look, Doc?" He asks as the doctor moves the ultrasound equipment around on Stiles's belly. 

"Well my initial diagnosis is right: you are definitely on a wolf's gestation period." The guy talking to them is an old friend of Deaton's, and one who knows werewolves well. "I could tell by how big she is. No one is that big at six weeks." The doctor looks at the ultrasound screen that Stiles and Derek are a little hesitant to turn to. "Everything looks amazing. The heartbeats are great, limbs are growing fine, their positions are marvelous." 

Derek watches Stiles visibly pale. "Their?" He asks. 

The doctor looks amicable as he smiles cheerfully. "Yes, congratulations! You're carrying a beautiful litter of four!" 

"Four?" Derek asks, feeling a little faint. He takes the chair the doctor offered him at the beginning of the appointment. 

The doctor looks between them. "Is this...bad news?" 

"No!" They both shout together, and then look at each other with hidden smiles. 

"This is amazing news," Derek says. 

"Four babies," Stiles whispers. 

"Well your insemination date was October 17th, so your approximate delivery day will be anywhere between December 10th and December 23rd."

"Four winter babies," Derek corrects, squeezing Stiles's hand. 

"Holy shit!" Stiles says loudly and with a huge smile. "I'm pregnant!" Derek just chuckles and shakes his head as the doctor wipes the gel from Stiles's stomach.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

They aren't even living with each other for very long when they make their love confessions. 

"I have a confession," Stiles says one night over dinner, the same time Derek says "We need to have a serious conversation." 

"What?" Stiles asks, face paling, and Derek's does the same. 

"Are we..." Derek begins.

"Did you just..." Stiles asks with a tilted head. 

_"You first,"_ they both say, then burst out laughing. 

"Seriously, though. What were you going to say?" Stiles asks. 

Derek shifts uncomfortably in his chair, picking up his fork and setting it back down again. "When...when the pack suggested that I be the father to your—our—pups, I..." He trails off for a second, swallowing. "It was really hard for me not to agree immediately. I kind of have a...a thing for you, Stiles. I really, really...well, more than like, you already know I like you. It's been going on for a long time and I just, I think—" 

"I love you," Stiles interrupts, his hands jumping out to grab onto Derek's on top of the table. "I really, really love you Derek Hale." 

Derek lets out a huge breath. "Okay, good, 'cause I love you too. A lot." 

"Good," Stiles giggles, then returns to his chicken. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

To say that the pregnancy is hard is...well...an understatement. 

"Why the fuck would you just leave the towel on the floor!?" Stiles hurls a ceramic plate at Derek's head, and he's thankful for his werewolf reflexes because otherwise he would probably be mopping up blood instead of broken plate. 

"I only did it so you wouldn't slip on the floor!" Derek says softly, arms outstretched and palms up in a soothing manner. "It wasn't even wet." 

"Oh, so now I need protection from the slippery dangers of the bathroom floor?" Stiles yells, throwing a spoon from the table Derek was setting mere minutes before. 

"No, no sweetheart, I just—"

"Don't _sweetheart_ me, no matter how sexy the pet names are! You don't care about me and the babies! You just want to go all alpha over me and—!" 

Derek rushes up to Stiles, eyes flashing red. "Don't you dare ever say that to me Stiles Stilinski. You're carrying my pups, and that plus the fact that I love you makes you the most valuable thing in my life. Don't ever say or think anything different." 

Stiles seems to melt in his arms and kisses him, causing sporadic claps to be heard from the living room a few feet away. "Bravo, lovely show!" Lydia says with a charted gaze. Beside her Erica, Allison, Scott, and Jackson just look at them with unbridled confusion and horror in their eyes. 

"What are you all looking at?!" Stiles snaps, and they all whip their heads around to look at each other. 

"I liked Stiles better as a guy. I understood him more," Scott mumbles to them, and they all nod their agreement. 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

The birth is not easy. No matter what TV shows or movies tell you, childbirth is _metal as fuck._ Derek should know. He was there. 

"Just push, baby," Derek says uncertainly, giving encouragement like the doctor says he should. He's playing dutiful father and boyfriend just as he should. 

"Do you think telling me to push is going to help?" Stiles says, unnaturally calm. He glares at Derek, sweat slicking his long hair onto his forehead. _"Take some goddamn pain away that's what's going to help Derek!"_

Immediately, Derek's veins are pulsing black and he's sharing the pain of childbirth. 

He's not going to lie, he has to sit down. 

When the first baby pops out, entirely human, the doctor says that they can expect the rest to come out in entirely human form as well. The first baby is screaming, and they declare it a girl. Claudia. The second baby is also a girl, one with an insanely intense glare and a shock of blonde hair. Talia. The third is a boy, Tyler, and the fourth is also a boy: Henry.

~~~~~~~~~~

Derek and Stiles lay in the hospital bed that's much too small for them to share and they hold their wrapped bundles of purple and green, four babies who would one day argue about being two minutes, forty seconds, five minutes older than one another. Claudia would be alpha. Stiles kisses her forehead first, then Talia's, then the boys. Then he looks at Derek, passed out with babies in his arms, and smiles. 

Now he just has to turn back into a dude, and everything will be all right again.

**Author's Note:**

> There will be more in this verse, such as PUPPIES!! We all need to know what their life is like!   
> If you enjoyed it, please comment and leave kudos, I'm always up for suggestions!


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